


The Goggles Do Nothing

by lls_mutant



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, parents having sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you get right down to it, Burt and Carole are still newlyweds, and hardly celibate.  But there are two kinds of people who never have sex: your parents and your children.  When Finn and Kurt catch them at it, they're desperate to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Goggles Do Nothing

The front door opened. "Hello?" Carole called from the kitchen, confused.

"Hey, babe." It was Burt, shucking off his jacket with a smile.

"Hey." Carole kissed him. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine." He didn't pull away. In fact, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "It is a beautiful Friday afternoon, the guys at the garage have everything covered, and both our kids are at school."

"I see," Carole said, pressing closer to him. The smile on his face was completely infectious, and she felt her own smile growing. "What ever are we going to do with an empty house?"

"Now, see, I had some thoughts about that," Burt said, moving his hand down from her waist to her ass. "Interested in hearing them?"

"I'm always interested in what you have to say." Carole pressed even closer. "Should we take this upstairs?"

"Well, that was one of my ideas." Burt was grinning. "Since the boys are in school, I figured we could make good use of our time alone." He backed her up against the counter. "And since they have a rehearsal after school and won't be home for _hours_ …"

"I think I can-" Carole began, but then had to cut off because Burt kissed her. And _damn_ , it was a good kiss, the kind that made it a little hard to breathe and practically lifted the top of her head off. Burt hadn't shaved this morning, and his stubble against her cheeks gave her goosebumps, as did his hands roaming freely from breasts to thighs.

They'd been able to have plenty of sex before this, but so often it was in the quiet of their own room, well aware that they had two teenaged sons who would understand exactly what those moans and squeaks meant. And occasionally they got a night where both Finn and Kurt were gone. But this was the first time they'd had the house to themselves during the day, and Carole was loving it. And so, obviously, was Burt.

His hands went up under her shirt, and Carole was about to giggle until frankly, giggling was the last thing on her mind. She unbuttoned his, her fingers clumsy and her efforts interrupted by kisses. She didn't take his shirt off though- there was just something appealing about the idea of sex not completely undressed. His skin was warm under her hands as she slid them under the fabric.

He undid her jeans and slipped them down along with her underwear, and then hoisted her up onto the counter. Carole couldn't help giggling. "What?" Burt teased. "This isn't working for you?"

"Oh, this is working for me," Carole said scooting to the edge. "I just feel about twenty years younger."

"Don't want you twenty years younger," Burt said with a roguish wink. "I'll take what I've got now." He kissed her neck, and Carole stretched her head back to allow him better access. His stubble scraped across her skin and left a warm flush all down her body. His hands smoothed up her thighs and between her legs, and Carole just gave up and groaned.

"You're still wearing pants," she realized.

"Yeah. I know that." Burt pulled away and dropped down to his knees. "Figured we could do something else, first."

"No objections," Carole gasped as he spread her legs wider. And then - _oh_ , and then…. _Then_ it didn't take long before Burt had her leaning forward, her hands gripping the edge of the counters as she gasped, her entire body shaking.

"Oh my God," she managed when she came down. "That was…."

Burt grinned up at her. "Wouldn't want me twenty years younger, would you?"

"God, _no_ ," Carole said, because she was pretty sure certain skills were acquired with time. She rubbed her face with her hands and then tossed her hair back, still trying to regain her breath. "That was _amazing_."

"I try," Burt said with a smug grin.

"You succeed." Carole slid down off the counter and reclaimed her pants.

"Wait. What are you doing?" Burt asked, confused as she slipped them back on.

"Repaying you," Carole said, pushing _him_ up against the counter. She got down on her own knees (thus the pants- she was just _not_ as young as she used to be) and undid his fly.

"Well, I was thinking that- I mean- okay." Burt shut up as Carole got to work. "You do that then."

Carole had a hard time not smiling.

Really, this was intoxicating. It wasn't something Carole did often, usually preferring to just go straight for sex, but here in the kitchen… there was something naughty enough about it that tickled her, even though she knew she'd done much, much more adventurous things in the past. This was like a little of that old danger with none of the consequences.

"Oh. My. God."

Strike that. Carole froze, still on her knees, her mouth still around Burt's cock, which was very rapidly softening. The thought flashed through her mind that she didn't know what was worse- staying where she was or pulling away. Burt cleared his throat.

Silence beat through the kitchen. Long and hard and cold. Carole couldn't look. She could _not_ see Kurt's face right now. Burt pulled away and Carole buried her hands in her face.

"Erm," Burt began. "You guys are supposed to be at school."

 _You guys._ Plural. Oh God oh God oh-

"There was a sewer leak or something," Finn said, and _yes_ it was _Finn_ and oh God…

Wait. Wait one fucking minute. Why the fuck was _she_ so embarrassed? Yes, she'd just been caught giving Burt a blow job, but he was her _husband_. She was not going to be ashamed of this. Not at all.

She pulled back and got to her feet, adjusting her shirt. "So. You're both home early." She looked directly at both of them. Kurt was pale and wide-eyed, Finn was scarlet and looking anywhere but directly at her. But apparently Burt, who had gotten himself tucked back in as best he could, had had the same epiphany as she had, and draped his arm around her shoulders in a clear _you wanna make something of it?_ gesture.

"We'll go," Kurt promised. He grabbed Finn by the arm. "We'll get out of your hair and… and… we'll go. Come on, Finn."

"Yeah," Finn agreed weakly. "We'll be back later. Lots later."

"Be home in time for dinner!" Burt shouted after their rapidly retreating forms.

They waited until the door slammed shut. Then they looked at each other and both burst into hysterical laughter.

"Oh my God," Carole said, when she could speak again. "We've scarred them for life."

"Just as well," Burt was still chuckling. "Like to see them try anything with _that_ picture in their minds."

"And what's wrong with the image of me giving you a blow job?" Carole teased.

"I know, right?" Burt agreed. "Personally, I think it is very sexy idea, and one that should be explored more." His smirk and deadpan were completely disarming.

"I couldn't agree more," Carole agreed. "Although maybe we should take it upstairs."

"You think?"

They raced for the stairs.

***

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God." Kurt was hyperventilating. "We did not just see that."

"Shut up," Finn said, but there wasn't any heat to it. He was wondering if it would be decidedly uncool to throw up in the front yard. He sure felt like he was going to.

"There is nothing," Kurt was still panicking, " _nothing_ that is ever going to get that sight out of my head."

"Beer," Finn suggested. "Beer might."

Kurt actually considered it. "Where would we get beer at this hour of the afternoon? Because I am _not_ going back in that house."

"Puck?"

Kurt looked tempted, but then shook his head. "He's going to figure it out. One of us won't be able to keep our mouths shut. And do _you_ want to listen to Puck on the subject of your mom having sex?"

Finn was ninety-nine percent sure his own mother had never been one of Puck's cougars. Ninety-nine percent. But ninety-nine wasn't enough today, and if Puck even _joked_ about sleeping with Finn's mom, Finn was pretty sure he'd gouge his eyes out like…

No. He did _not_ need to be thinking about that play they were supposed to read for English right now.

"Okay," he agreed. "Not Puck." A thought occurred to him. "But he did show Rachel how to get into her dads' liquor cabinet."

Kurt made a face, but he nodded. "All right. Let's go over to Rachel's. God knows the sight of her truly hideous Catholic schoolgirl chic will make sex be the furthest thing from my mind."

"Er, right," Finn said. "Let's go."

***

At first, Rachel didn't understand the problem. "So your parents are having sex," she said matter-of-factly. "I think it's wonderful that in this world of infidelity and spousal abuse that two people can be together and be so expressively loving within the confines of marriage."

"No, you don't understand," Finn said. "It's not that they're having sex- although, ew."

"It's that we _saw_ them having sex," Kurt added. "Or, more accurately, we saw-"

"Don't say it," Finn ordered. "Don't you dare."

For once, Kurt shut his mouth. That, more than anything, seemed to get the point through to Rachel.

"I could take you to my therapist," she suggested.

"We don't need therapy," Finn said. "We just need to get drunk."

"Please," Kurt begged. "Finn's right. No amount of therapy is ever going to wash that image from my mind, but booze might."

"My dads are going to kill me," Rachel said, but she found a bobby pin. "You both owe me big time for this."

***

"To our parents!"

"Finn, we're trying to forget about our parents. And don't slosh your cup like that."

"Can't help it. I've had, what? Five already?"

Kurt sniffled and took a long swig of his screwdriver. "Five," he agreed. "We've both had five, and I still can't stop thinking about it."

"You just said we're trying to forget," Finn argued. "Stop bringing it up."

" _You_ brought it up."

Rachel looked back and forth between the two of them. She wasn't by any means an expert, but there was something strange here.

"Fill us up again, Rachel," Finn said, plunking his glass down. He wrested Kurt's from him (after Kurt pulled it back long enough to down the last of it) and pointed imperiously to it.

"You've already had five drinks each," Rachel said cautiously.

"Well, you're skimping on the vodka," Finn accused.

"Don't be so stingy," Kurt agreed. "We've been traumatized. How would you like catching one of your dads giving the other a blow job?"

"Dude!" Finn whacked Kurt upside the back of the head gently. "No!"

"I'm sorry," Kurt said with a grimace. "I just keep hoping that if I say it enough it won't be true."

"You keep hoping that if you say it enough I'll envision it and be traumatized, too," Rachel accused.

"The thought did occur to me, yes," Kurt admitted. "Come on. Pour. No, more than that," he said, catching her hand when she tried to pull the vodka away. "That's better."

Rachel watched as they both picked up their drinks, and then shook her head. Something was definitely off. When they launched into another round of _oh-my-God-what-did-we, see shut-up-you-idiot-I'm-trying-to-forget_ , Rachel snuck out of the room and pulled out her phone.

"Noah?" she hissed when he picked up on the second ring.

"Well, well, well. I knew you'd come crawling back for it sometime, my hot little schoolgirl," Puck drawled good-naturedly. "'Sup?"

"Noah, this is an emergency," Rachel said, ignoring the rest of it. "Finn and Kurt are here and they're trying to get drunk, but they've drunk half a bottle already! I don't know how much more I can give them!"

"They puking?" Puck asked, sounding remarkably unconcerned.

"No."

"Then don't worry so much about it. They’ll puke if they get too drunk. Wait-" Puck finally showed some interest. "Is Hummel really keeping up with Hudson?"

"Yes. I know it sounds crazy- I can barely believe it myself- but they've both had five screwdrivers and they're both still retaining remarkable hand-eye coordination."

Silence for a moment.

"Puck?" Rachel asked.

"Screwdrivers?"

"Yes."

"With vodka and orange juice?"

"That's what a screwdriver is, isn't it?" Rachel asked, suddenly concerned. "Did I do it wrong? I could have sworn-"

"No, no. It's not that," Puck cut her off. "Er, remember when I swore I'd replace all the liquor we drank?"

"Yes," Rachel said.

"Yeah, well- and I totally swear I'm going to, okay?- but your dads buy the good stuff. I came up a little short, and I couldn't get the vodka."

"Puck! If my dads find out, they will absolutely-"

"Hey, relax, all right? I've got you covered. They obviously aren’t going to find out soon, or they would have noticed I replaced the vodka with water. So Finn and Kurt aren't even close to drunk; they've just been drinking watered down orange juice."

Rachel peeped back into the kitchen, where Finn was laughing and almost fell onto Kurt, who was cradling his head in one hand. "You're sure?" she asked suspiciously.

"Trust me. Would I lie to you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I so would," Puck agreed. "But not about this. It's just water."

"So what do you suggest?" Rachel asked cagily.

She could _hear_ Puck grin. "Don't tell em, let em think they're drunk off their asses, and take embarrassing pictures," he said gleefully. "I'll give you ten bucks if you make Hudson think he's drunk enough that he kisses Hummel."

"You're supposed to be using that money on the vodka," Rachel said as haughtily as she could manage, and then hung up the phone. She supposed the effect of the flounce of it was ruined since Puck wasn't here to see, but the practice was always good.

"Guys?" Rachel said, going back into the kitchen. The kitchen that was way too silent.

Kurt and Finn were gone. And they'd taken the bottle of "vodka" with them. Rachel looked around.

"Oh, shit."

***

"That," Carole said, lounging against Burt's bare shoulder, "was _amazing_."

"Best recovery ever," Burt laughed, caressing the top of her arm.

"Mmm." She pushed her sweaty hair back off her face. "I'm starting to feel guilty, though."

"You should. I'm pretty sure you can get arrested for doing that to a guy," Burt joked.

"Ha ha. No, I meant about the boys."

Burt made a dismissive noise. "They shouldn't have been home, and we're married adults. It's their own damn fault."

"Really?" Carole said dryly.

"No. But damn if I'm going to feel guilty over it."

Carole debating pulling the covers up over them and then decided hell with it. "So bets on when they come home?"

"I'm guessing they ran away forever. Joined the circus." Burt stretched.

"You aren't worried about them at all?" Carole said. "They did kind of run out of here."

"Yeah, but they'll be fine. They're together," Burt pointed out.

"That's my point exactly. Alone, they're fine. But you've seen some of the ideas the two of them come up with together. Something happens to their common sense. I don't trust them to find their way out of an empty, unlocked room."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"The moving box incident? The dishwasher episode? The garage shenanigans?"

Burt rubbed his chin. "They both have their phones," he offered weakly. "They'll find their way home. If not, we'll send out search parties. In the mean time…"

"You are _not_ up for it again!" Carole laughed.

"No, I was just thinking we could watch TV," Burt suggested with a smirk, and rolled up onto his elbows and hovered over her, leering. " _Interesting_ TV, for a change."

"Somehow, I doubt you mean _Ice Truckers_." Burt didn't answer and Carole swatted him. "No! No _Ice Truckers!_ You can watch that with Finn! I thought you meant…." She frowned. "Do you even _have_ any?" Burt still didn't answer, and Carole narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Where did you get it?"

"I confiscated it from Finn, who tried to convince me Puckerman gave it to him as a gag gift."

"Right." Carole sighed. "Well, if you’re going to punish Finn for having it, I suppose we should know _exactly_ what Finn's got."

"My thoughts exactly. All in the name of parenting."

Carole considered that. "Hon? Can you not talk about parenting right as we're about to watch porn?"

"Yeah," Burt agreed, a little morosely. "That does kind of kill the mood, doesn't it? I'll go get the DVD."

***

There was a knock at the door. "I'll get it!" Quinn shouted, running down the stairs and straightening her dress. When she opened the door, she cooled immediately. "Finn."

"Hey there, baby," Finn said, leaning his forearm against the doorjamb. He had the other arm draped around Kurt's shoulders. They were both laughing, and Kurt was holding a half-empty bottle of vodka.

"Oh, my God," Quinn said. "You're drunk."

"You'd better believe it," Finn said. "And it's not helping."

"Helping?" Quinn asked.

"We've been traumatized," Kurt explained, his eyes wide. "We've been forced to see horrible sights that we're trying to forget."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "What horrible sights?"

"His mom was giving my dad a blow job."

Quinn shuddered. "Oh. In that case, come in."

The two of them came in. Finn went right over and collapsed on the sofa, but Kurt stood awkwardly, still holding the bottle of vodka.

"Did you two really drink all that?" Quinn said, taking the bottle from Kurt.

Kurt nodded. "It's not helping, though," he repeated.

He was awfully coherent for having drunk a quarter bottle of vodka- or at least, Quinn assumed it was a quarter bottle. And Finn was a total lightweight. (Not that she wasn't, but she at least didn't pretend not to be.) If they'd really drunk this much, they should both be messes.

"Where did the two of you get this?" she asked. Kurt didn't look as ridiculously young as he used to, but there was no way anyone was going to believe he or Finn were twenty-one.

"Rachel."

"Rachel Berry gave you guys vodka?" Quinn was even more dubious now. Something _had_ to be up. She unscrewed the bottle and sniffed. No smell. She poured a little out onto her fingers and tasted it. No taste, either.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure this is water."

"No it's not," Kurt said, swaying. "It's vodka."

"Definitely vodka," Finn said from the sofa. "We're drunk, Quinn. Really drunk."

"Drunk off our asses," Kurt agreed, and that made Quinn taste it one more time.

"No," she said, "it's definitely water. Did you two drink anything else?"

"Just orange juice. Rachel made us screwdrivers."

Quinn closed her eyes. "You two are _not_ drunk," she said. "Which means you had no excuse showing up here after coming from Rachel's house, Finn."

"Erm, I'm sorry? I wasn't thinking?" Finn tried.

"Right." Quinn kept a leash on her temper.

"It was Kurt's idea?" Finn suggested.

"Sure, throw _me_ to the wolves."

"Why wouldn't Kurt think of going to Blaine's?" Quinn asked.

"I _did_ think of going to Blaine's," Kurt said. "But we were too drunk to drive."

"Well, congratulations on the fastest sobering up ever," Quinn said, thrusting the bottle of "vodka" back at him. "And I respect that you two have seen sights that your virgin eyes can't handle. But I'm going to have to ask you both to leave."

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Kurt protested.

"My parents are conservative enough to kick me out of the house for being pregnant out of wedlock," Quinn pointed out. "Do _you_ want to be here when my mom comes down?"

"She's got a point." Finn hauled himself off the couch and grabbed Kurt by the hand. "Let's go."

Kurt was getting huffy. "I am _not_ going to be driven out just because I am outside her heterosexual norms that-"

"It is her house."

"Oh. Right."

"See you later!" Quinn shouted, waving prettily at them. Then she slammed the door.

"Not our best idea ever," Finn said.

"You think?" Kurt asked waspishly.

" _And_ we're sober," Finn complained. "That needs to be remedied. Hand me that bottle, will ya?"

With a sigh, Kurt handed it over.

***

"Finn really likes this?" Carole asked, nestled under Burt's arm. "I mean, really. The girl isn't even very attractive. She got roots. And implants."

"Her ass is okay though," Burt said, gesturing with a beer at the TV screen. "Notice you're not complaining about the guy."

"I thought the terrible waxing was obvious."

"Mmm."

Carole thought about it. "Does Kurt have any porn?"

Burt looked a little terrified. "Not that I've ever found. But… you'd want to see that? Two guys getting it on?"

"You like the idea of two girls getting it on?" Carole asked, with an arched eyebrow.

Burt considered it. "Guess I can see your point. I don't know if I'm that comfortable with it, though. I mean, I can watch this and think about what _I'd_ do, but if I watch two guys going at it I'm just gonna think about what Kurt would do, and that's not really a thought I want in my head right now, you know?"

"Okay," Carole said, brushing away the slight disappointment. Burt squeezed her closer, and she redirected her attention back to the screen. "Oh, come on!" she laughed. "Who has sex in that position? Really?"

"You're quite the movie critic here," Burt teased her. "How would you do it?"

"How would I make a porno?" Carole asked.

Burt leaned back, smirking. "Yeah. How would you make a porno, if you were in charge?"

Oh. _Oh._ Carole leaned back. "Are you coming to my casting couch, Mr. Hummel?"

"Might be, if your movie's any good."

Carole was torn between snorting with laughter and getting turned on again. She pulled herself away from Burt and up on the pillows. "Well, it's about a casting couch," she said. "It's about a movie director who's got a new movie coming out, and the actor who wants to be in it."

"I'm listening," Burt said, lying on his side and propping his head up on his hand.

"Well, she's very frazzled. She works a lot, and she has a kid. Two kids."

"Yeah, that would wear anyone out," Burt agreed.

Carole tossed her hair over her shoulder, warming up to the subject. "So, the actor would come in. Dressed," she added, and Burt gave her that sly little grin and scooted out of bed to pull on his clothes. "He's a good looking guy- exactly what she needs- but he doesn't have much of a name yet. But she's seen some of his work, and he's good, so she lets him come on. He's really worried, because he really needs this job."

Burt sauntered over to the bathroom and stood in the door, leaning his forearm on the frame and sticking his other hand in his pocket. "Excuse me, ma'am?" he said, and the two of them looked at each other and cracked up.

"Oh God," Carole giggled, grabbing the pillow and burying her face in it. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You're the one putting out for a job," Burt laughed. "But in all serious, I'm not sure if I can do this yet, either, if you get what I mean." Carole cocked her head, and Burt smirked. "I've got one more round left in me, woman. Use it wisely."

That only made Carole laugh harder.

"Hey," Burt said, offended. "It's true! I'm not as young as I used to be!"

"Neither am I," Carole said, and she was suddenly aware of how ridiculous they both would look to an outsider. She was especially conscious of her own body, and that she was not anywhere near as slim and toned as she'd been before Finn. And Burt, with his shirt hanging open and an expression that was supposed to be sexy but really looked like he was having gas pains…. But when he laughed, the joy on his face made him irresistible to her.

"So, you want to do this or not?" Burt was regaining his composure. And it _was_ kind of a fun idea. Carole took a deep breath and put the pillow down.

"Okay," she said. "So the actor comes in to the office and starts getting ready to beg for a job…."

***

"What do you think our parents are doing right now?" Finn asked as they stood outside the Hudson-Hummel residence, terrified to enter.

"God, I do _not_ want to know." Kurt peered into the vodka bottle. "It's empty. I can't believe we drank the whole thing."

"You're the one who kept reminded me it was just water," Finn pointed out. "I was thirsty. More the question is, what do we do now? And we can drive. We're not even buzzed."

"Don't remind me. Blaine's house," Kurt decided. "We tried your girls and they were useless, let's see if Blaine is any better."

"Okay," Finn agreed. "Please tell me you have your keys."

"I never had a chance to take them out of my pocket," Kurt said.

They climbed in, Kurt commandeering the driver's seat. As Kurt turned the key in the ignition, the car started and Bryan Adams' voice came out of the radio.

 _Man, we were killing time, we were young and restless, we needed to unwind…_

"Change the station, Finn," Kurt ordered.

"Why? I like this song," Finn said. "Let's roll down the windows and-"

 _Back in the summer of 69._

Oh. "Oh. I get it. Yeah." He dove forward and pushed the button. Top forty, and Pink. Kurt hummed along, and Finn relaxed a little. He rolled the window down, much to Kurt's annoyance, and tapped his fingers on the door.

New song. Rhianna.

 _Sex is in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it-_

Finn lunged for the radio button again.

Country- his mother's station. A man that Finn thought might be called Tracy or Chase or something belting about kids.

 _I'm a lucky man, I think daddy's got himself one hot momma-_

"ARGH!" Finn hit the next station. Older rock, softer stuff. George Michael. Finn hit the button before he could even get a lyric. Folk. Peter Paul and Mary.

 _The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind-_

"You've got to be kidding me!" Finn shouted. He hit the search button. Religion. There couldn't be any-

 _"And I say get on your knees, brothers and sisters, and kneel before-"_

"Even GOD is against us!" Finn yelled.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow up. "I thought you weren't sure if God existed."

"Oh, it looks like He exists, and he wants to get back at us for everything we've done by reminding us our parents are having _sex_ right now!"

"Maybe you should just turn off the radio."

Finn did so. The car was silent. Too silent. "We could play a game," Finn suggested.

"A game?"

"To keep our minds off… it."

"What game?" Kurt asked dubiously.

"Twenty questions." Finn thought for a minute. "I've got one. Guess what I'm thinking of."

Kurt sighed. "Is it our parents having sex?"

"This isn't working, is it?"

"Not even close. Now shut up and let me drive."

***

"Did you hear the car?" Carole asked. She was draped across the bed, and Burt had a cluster of grapes from downstairs.

"I assume it was the boys, since the alarm didn't go off."

"I wondered where they got to."

"Ten bucks says they're going to Blaine's." He popped another grape into her mouth.

Carole considered that as she chewed. "A blow job says they get lost on the way."

"You don't think Kurt can find his way to Blaine's?"

"Not with Finn in the car."

Burt nodded. "All right. I'll take that one. If they get to Blaine's without getting lost, you owe me a blow job. If they get lost on the way, I owe you a… what _do_ you call it, anyway?"

Carole shrugged. "And if we're both wrong and they didn't go to Blaine's, we just have sex?"

"Actually, we probably call the police because they're missing."

"Good point."

"But I'm pretty sure I'm going to get that blow job."

Carole snorted.

***

"How can we be lost?" Finn demanded. "It's your _boyfriend_."

"And he usually comes over to our house! Shut up and let me think for a minute, Finn."

"A penis and a map," Finn grumbled. "All guys are born with a penis and a map. And if you can't follow the one, you should be able to follow the other. Like those sticks they use to search for water in the desert."

"My dick is not a divining rod! And it does not have GPS!"

"Although you've got to admit, that would be pretty cool."

"Finn," Kurt began, and then frowned. "Actually, that would be…"

"See?" Finn said enthusiastically. "You'd never get lost on your way to- um, what do you call…?"

"Finn," Kurt said carefully, "I'm asking you nicely. Let's not go there. Let's just get to Blaine's and then we can figure this out."

"Well, how are we going to figure out how to get there?" Finn asked as Kurt turned the car around. "All these houses look sort of the same."

Kurt was peering at the houses. Finally, he slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. "This one!" he declared.

"Really?" Finn asked. "How can you tell?"

Kurt sighed. "It's the fact that 'Anderson' is printed on the mailbox, Finn. It really does kind of give it away."

Blaine opened the door before they even got to the front porch. "You're after five," he said. "I told Tina you'd be after five."

"How did you know?" Kurt asked.

"How did you even know we'd come?" Finn asked.

Blaine shrugged. "Mercedes."

Kurt recoiled back. "Mercedes? How did _she_ know?

"Well, Rachel called Puck, who told Lauren, who thought it was hysterical and put it on her Facebook, and I guess the others picked it up from there. Brittany wants you guys to do an interview on _Fondue for Two_ , Santana thinks you're both pathetic, and Mike wants to know where you get your water. Is it really true?"

"But why did Mercedes call _you_?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shrugged. "She was bored. And everyone else already knew."

"And Mercedes loves to spill a story." Kurt sighed, and then finally hugged Blaine.

"But wait," Finn said, still trying to trace the gossip, "then why were you talking to Tina?"

"No one had gotten in touch with her yet."

"I'm a little alarmed this has all become common knowledge," Kurt said. "Tell me the Warblers don't know." Blaine looked _way_ too innocent. Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on. Play good host."

"Why?" Blaine smirked. "Thirsty?"

Kurt elbowed him.

Blaine led them into the house. Finn made a beeline for the bathroom, and Kurt took advantage of his stepbrother's absence to kiss Blaine hello.

It was a damn good kiss, and it lasted for a while.

"So," Blaine said in Kurt's ear after the broke and Kurt was nuzzling into Blaine's shoulder, "any chance we can distract Finn with my PS3 and get some time to ourselves?"

"I think so," Kurt said, feeling a twinge of guilt for abandoning the cause, but not that much guilt because _Blaine._ "Finn's easily distracted by shiny things."

"Not that easily distracted," Finn said, appearing behind them. "And if you think I'm going to sit here by myself while you get laid- even for a PS3- you're crazy."

"I didn't say-"

"Dude, you didn't _have_ to." Next to Kurt, Blaine shifted and flushed. Kurt was going to argue, and Finn must have realized it, because he pulled out the big guns. "Do you really want to be getting a blow job while your dad is?"

"They're done," Kurt said, although Finn's words were definitely having the desired effect on his libido. "They've got to be done."

Finn crossed his arms and glared. "I've already had to suffer through seeing my mom do that to my stepfather. I am _not_ going to sit in the next room while my brother does that with his boyfriend. And it's not homophobic," he said, before Kurt could accuse him of that very thing, "I'm doing you a favor."

"Cock-blocking us is a _favor_?" Blaine asked incredulously.

"Yeah. It's like, that post-traumatic stuff or something."

"You did _not_ just say you had PTSD right now," Blaine said.

"No, I said it's sort of like it. It might make you forget, or you might form some sort of weird association."

Oh God. Kurt saw what Finn was saying. What if, in the middle of getting a blowjob from Blaine, he started picturing his dad and Carole again? What if he started picturing more than that? What if he could _never have any sort of sex again_ because he kept picturing his father, pushed against the counter and nearly hitting an-

"Oh God," he said out loud. "You're right. I can't believe it, but you're right."

"You'd be scarred for life," Finn said solemnly. "Well, worse than you already are."

"Hey!" Blaine protested. "Just because you aren't getting any doesn't mean I- er, Kurt- can't!"

"No," Kurt cut in. "No. Finn's right. If we do this now and I have a flashback-"

"It would _not_ be a flashback!" Blaine nearly shouted. "You guys do _not_ have PTSD!"

"If I have a flashback," Kurt overrode him, "I'll always think of my dad when we're together. And Carole. I'd think of being her and then my dad and you would never get another blow job again."

That stopped Blaine cold. "Never get another blow job again?"

Finn smirked. "Never get another blow job again."

"Oh. Erm." Blaine rubbed the back of his neck as he considered it. "Well, Kurt. You know- _you know_ \- I would never force you into something you're not comfortable with. And… ah… if you really aren't comfortable with this right now…."

"I really don't think I am," Kurt admitted.

Blaine nodded. "In a few days, it won't be at the top of your mind. And I'll make it impossible for you to think about anything else."

"I'll bet you will," Kurt agreed, feeling marginally better.

"Trust me," Blaine said, stepping closer and sliding a hand up Kurt's arm. "We'll find someplace completely different, like maybe the backseat of your car, where we-"

"Hey! Standing right here!" Finn said, clapping his hands over his ears. "I do _not_ want to know what you’ve been doing in that back seat- I sit there!"

"Definitely the back seat then," Blaine said with a wink. He gripped Kurt's hands. "It will be okay. Trust me. You'll be fine."

"I know," Kurt said, and took a deep breath. "I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Definitely. I love you, you know. So much. I-"

"Enough!" Finn shouted. He pulled Kurt away from Blaine. "You two can be mushy later, but right now, we're in this together. And this isn't helping!"

"I love you, too," Kurt told Blaine as Finn dragged him out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow!" He waited until they were in the car to turn on Finn. "You could have been a little more polite."

"Look who’s talking. You really thought me playing video games while you had sex was a good solution?"

"It wasn't what I intended."

Finn grunted. He turned around to back up, but his eyes lingered on the back seat. "Dude, I probably shouldn't ask, but have you guys really had sex in this car?"

"Define sex," Kurt said.

"Define? What's to define? Has he put his dick up your ass in this car?"

"Finn, do you really think that _I_ would do something like that in a car?"

Finn looked abashed. "I guess you'd require a four star hotel and satin sheets or something, huh?"

"Much better," Kurt said.

Finn tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Wait a minute. You haven't put yours up-"

"Just drive, Finn."

Finn shrieked.

***

"Wow. Just… wow." Carole sank down to the bed, resting her chin on her arms. "That was…." She looked back over her shoulder. "I don't think your doctor would approve of that."

Burt collapsed beside her. "Sure he would," he said. "Exercise. I'm supposed to exercise."

"Well, I think that qualified." Carole groaned, stretching her back a little. "That was… we need to do that more often."

"So, did I get the part?" Burt teased.

"You definitely got the part." Carole turned over on her side, propping her head up on her hand. "I'm starting to worry, though."

"I'm not running off to be in porn movies, if that's what you're thinking."

Carole giggled. "No. I meant about the boys."

"You had to bring them up again. Give me a minute, okay?" Burt turned over and closed his eyes, arm thrown across his face. "All right," he said eventually. "I can think about them again. You think they're okay?"

"In all seriousness, yes. But I'm feeling guilty," Carole admitted.

Burt looked over at the alarm clock. "They'll be home soon for dinner."

"They might eat out."

"They won't. It's Friday night."

"Oh. True."

"We can get them something they like for dinner. Their favorites."

"So that means pizza for Finn and foie gras and caviar for Kurt?"

"I don't suppose there's a place that puts that foy whatever stuff on pizza?"

"Ew." Carole nudged him with her elbow. "But it's a good idea. We just need to come up with something they both like."

"Chinese it is, then. Finn can have egg rolls and Kurt can have chopsticks and they'll both be happy."

"Sounds good," Carole said, especially since it didn't involve any extra work for her. "I'll get up and order it."

"Yeah." Burt pulled the sheet over them and snuggled closer. It was nice, when he got into snuggly moods like this.

"In a minute," she said, contentedly.

***

"Don't even try it here," Sam said when he opened the door a crack. Finn and Kurt exchanged surprised looks. "Yeah," Sam said, "I've heard what's going on. And if you think I haven't had to see a hell of a lot worse while my whole family is living in the same room, you're so wrong."

Oh yeah. This had been a _really_ dumb idea.

Kurt and Finn finally ended up at a playground, sitting on a pair of swings.

"You know," Kurt said, "I suppose we could start being mature about this now. Taking the view that at least they're happy and in love."

"And that it _is_ just sex, and everyone has it," Finn agreed. Kurt nodded glumly, his feet dragging on the ground.

"Yes."

"Yeah"

"Have _you_ had it?" Kurt asked suddenly. "Again, I mean? I know about Santana."

"Nope," Finn said. "Although Quinn was a lot more… adventurous this time around."

"Mmm." Kurt leaned his head against the chain of the swing. "I was just giving you a hard time, earlier," he confessed. "Blaine and I haven't done _that_ yet at all."

"Oh." Finn grimaced. "No offense, but when I think about it, I'm not surprised."

Kurt just shrugged again.

"I'm just a little afraid to go home," Finn said. "I don't want to think about it every time I look at them."

"Well, it's not like we can stay out forever. I'm getting hungry, too," Kurt confessed.

"Yeah. Me, too." But neither of them moved off the swings.

Finn started to swing for real. It felt good, the air on his face and the chains in his hands, even if he had to really tuck his legs under him so he didn't drag his feet on the ground. After a minute, Kurt joined him. The swing set rocked a little from their weight. They didn't talk, they just swung until Finn started to feel a little motion sick. He grinned and then jumped off the swing.

"Come on," he shouted to Kurt. "See if you can beat me."

"You're insane," Kurt shouted back, but jumped anyway. He came up a good two feet short of the mark Finn had left. "You do realize you've got more height on me."

Finn was going to answer when his phone rang. He pulled it out and made a face. "Mom," he said.

"Answer it," Kurt said.

"Hello?"

"Finn?" His mom sounded casual. Very deliberately casual. "Dinner's in ten minutes."

There were so many things that Finn could say. _I take it the coast is clear. You and Burt aren't still…. Did you make it on that counter?_ But his mouth found itself just saying one thing. "Okay. Yeah. We'll be there."

"Is Kurt with you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. We'll see you in ten."

"See you in ten."

"They're finally done?" Kurt said when Finn hung up.

"Didn't ask." Finn shuddered. "You ready to do this?"

Kurt lifted his chin. "I'm ready."

"All right. Let's go."

***

"You ready to do this?" Burt teased Carole as she spooned the rice into two bowls.

"I keep telling myself there's no reason to be worried," Carole confessed. "We're married. It's our house."

"It will be better once we're past this dinner," Burt said.

"I hope so."

Burt opened his mouth to say more, but the door opened and Finn called out a cautious, "Hello?"

"Come on in," Burt called back. "Dinner's on the table." The boys entered the kitchen slowly, like they were ready for something to jump out and attack them at any moment. Burt forced himself to look at Kurt's face. "We got Chinese," he said.

Kurt flicked a glance at the table. "It smells good," he said.

"Well, good. Come on. Let's eat." The four of them sat down at the table, in the seats they always sat in. It looked like such a normal Friday night dinner. It _was_ such a normal Friday night dinner, Burt decided. "Pass the egg rolls, will you, Finn?" Finn handed him the plate, and Burt searched desperately for a topic of conversation that didn't focus on today.

"So," he said finally. "Do you guys have any more glee club performances? Nursing homes or anything?"

"No," Kurt said.

"Oh."

Silence.

"What about next year?" Carole asked. "Any talk about anything other than the competitions?"

"No one's talked about next year yet," Finn said.

More silence.

Finn was focused on drowning his egg roll in duck sauce, and Kurt was delicately picking through his chicken and cashews with his chopsticks. Burt and Carole exchanged glances. "Now what?" Carole mouthed at him.

Burt decided to take the bull by the horns. "All right," he said, putting down his fork. "Let's just get it out in the open, okay? You guys walked in on us. Sorry about that, but we really thought you were at school."

"We're not mad," Finn said.

"No, but no one needs to see their parents having sex," Carole chimed in.

Burt nodded. "I walked in on my parents once."

"Dad," Kurt begged. "After everything today, don't make me picture Grandma and Grandpa-"

"So don't picture it," Burt said. "But let me tell you, it happens to everyone."

"It's not even that it happens to everyone," Carole interjected, which was smart because neither boy had had both parents for all that long. "But it's only a big deal if we make it one. We don't venture out of the bedroom often."

"Mom!"

"No, Finn, I'm being serious. I know it's not something you particularly want to hear, but I think it's important to say," Carole said, a little more confidently. "Because you are old enough to understand that married people have sex, and that there need to be boundaries. We've set boundaries for you and Kurt, and it's important that you understand that yes, we have boundaries for ourselves, too."

"So… no sex outside the bedroom?" Finn said warily.

Carole flicked her gaze at Burt. "Right," she said. "No sex outside the bedroom."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "And no sex when we're home?"

"How about we make it possible for you to believe that?" Burt said. Because giving up sex at night? Not going to happen. Kurt didn't answer. "We've been married for over six months, kiddo. This is not the first time we've had sex since our wedding night."

Kurt turned pale and looked back down at his food, but then nodded. "I see," he said.

"Okay. So there you go. There are the rules, and if everyone sticks to them, we won't have a repeat of today. Okay? Okay. So. Let's try this again. How was school?"

The conversation was stilted for a bit, but eventually, it began to flow, and by the end of dinner everything felt a little easier. The boys had relaxed, and although Finn's ears were still red and Kurt still couldn't quite meet Carole's eyes without blushing, everything felt better. Burt felt like celebrating.

"We ought to do something," he said, as the boys did the dishes.

"Like what?" Carole asked.

"We could take them for ice cream," Burt suggested.

Carole looked over her shoulder at Finn and Kurt. They were having some intense sort of conversation, their voices low. "All right. But if we do," Carole said very carefully, "I think I'd better not get a cone.


End file.
